


Pour Away the Ocean

by the_sky_is_forever



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Cancer, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Terminal Illnesses, no one actually dies but it's heavily implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 04:28:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7419781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_sky_is_forever/pseuds/the_sky_is_forever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little way down the beach, Enjolras pulls away from Grantaire and stares out at the waves, eyes looking blankly at the horizon. “It’s not fair,” he whispers. Grantaire doesn’t know what to say to that, or even if he should. </p><p>Enjolras has terminal cancer. Grantaire takes him away for the evening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pour Away the Ocean

**Author's Note:**

> No one dies in this fic but they talk about Enjolras' death a lot. I trust that anyone that has opened this has already read the description and the tags and know they can handle this, but if you're doubting, please take care. This is quite a sad read and it deals with cancer and death.
> 
> the title is from W. H. Auden's "Funeral Blues" because that one scene in "Four Weddings and a Funeral" always makes me sob and i'm a massive Auden fan.

Grantaire wraps his arms around Enjolras’ shaking form. He looks at Enjolras’ parents, who look so very tired. “Would you mind if I had Enjolras to myself for a little while? I think he needs to get away for a bit.”

Enjolras’ mum shakes her head. “Not at all. We’ll be at home if he needs us.”

“Of course,” Grantaire says, and watches as the sad couple walk away. Grantaire gently hustles Enjolras into the passenger seat of his car and pulls away from the hospital. He keeps one hand on Enjolras’ leg as is safe as they drive.

They drive for a long time, neither one saying anything; the only sound in the car is Enjolras’ crying. Enjolras settles down eventually, huddled up in the seat and curving his body to look out the window as he surreptitiously wipes away the tears under his eyes.

“You alright?” Grantaire asks after a while.

“No,” Enjolras replies, thickly. “Where are we going?”

“To the beach,” Grantaire replies.

Enjolras looks over at him. “We are?”

“Yeah,” Grantaire replies, taking his eyes off the road for a moment to meet Enjolras’ and offer him a supportive smile.

Enjolras doesn’t smile back. Grantaire didn’t expect him to.

They pull into a carpark by the sea, hours later, and Grantaire turns off the engine as they both sit in stillness for a minute. Enjolras is the one to break it, unclicking his seatbelt and opening the car door, getting out in silence. Grantaire watches the young boy make his way down onto the sand from the driver’s seat.

Enjolras walks a little way out onto the sand, and then suddenly drops to his knees, whole body shaking as the wind whips his hair about. Grantaire gets out the car and walks out onto the beach. He stands still, a little way from Enjolras. Enjolras looks up at him, and Grantaire goes over. He helps Enjolras get to his feet, and takes his hand to lead him on a slow walk down the beach. They don’t say anything.

A little way down the beach, Enjolras pulls away from Grantaire and stares out at the waves, eyes looking blankly at the horizon. “It’s not fair,” he whispers. Grantaire doesn’t know what to say to that, or even if he should.

Enjolras turns to face him and he looks furious for the first time since this all started. He was unresponsive, and then he was sad, and now he’s angry, so, so angry that this is happening to him.

“It’s not fair!” he yells at Grantaire. “It’s not _fair_. I’m _sixteen_. I’m supposed to be getting ready for the rest of my life. My life right now is supposed to be full of first times! First time I get drunk, first kiss, learning to drive, first time I fall in love. But no. I don’t get that. All I am right now is last times. Last time I talk to this person, last time I go to the beach, last time I read a book. Last time I touch another human. Last breath.”

He breaks down sobbing, dropping to his knees on the sandy beach, and Grantaire stands in front of him, tears streaming down his face, throat _hurting_. He drops to his knees in front of Enjolras. “I’m sorry,” he sobs. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m not ready to die,” Enjolras cries. “I’m not-”

“I know, I know,” Grantaire replies, broken.  They kneel in front of each other on the sand, sobbing, and Grantaire doesn’t think he can bear it but knows that he has to. For Enjolras’ sake, he has to. He pulls Enjolras into his arms, holding him tightly as the wind whips around them and Enjolras cries. “I’ll be with you till the end, okay? You’re not going to be alone.”

“Why me?” Enjolras sobs into his shoulder. “I’ve got _so much_ – so much I need to do; _it’s not fair_.”

“I know it’s not,” Grantaire answers, struggling to get the words past the impossible lump in his throat. “I know. I’d give anything for this to not be happening. _Anything_. God, I’d take your place in a heartbeat.”

Enjolras looks up at him, sharply, face pale. “Don’t say that,” he says. “Don’t you ever say that.”

“Okay,” Grantaire says.

Enjolras leans up and kisses him firmly, and then he breaks, sobbing and limp in Grantaire’s arms. “I wanted- I wanted _so much_ for us. We were going to be _brilliant_ , and then I had to go and get fucking cancer.”

“It’s not your fault,” Grantaire tells him helplessly. “You might survi-”

“Don’t, Grantaire,” Enjolras cuts him off. “I don’t want to hear that. Don’t lie. Everyone knows I’m dying. They call it terminal cancer for a reason.” He presses another kiss to Grantaire’s neck, keeping his face there to hide from the world in Grantaire’s warm skin. “I’m going to die, and you’re going to live. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t know if I can live without you,” Grantaire admits. “I don’t want to live without you.”

“Well you have to,” Enjolras tells him, and kisses his skin again. Grantaire runs and hand through his hair and Enjolras leans into the touch. “You’re going to live, and you’re going to get through this along with our friends and my family, and you’re going to be amazing. You’re going to fall in love with someone who deserves you and live happily ever after. I insist on it.”

“Ever the optimist, even in death,” Grantaire replies, kissing him on the top of the head.

“When I die, can you do one thing for me?” Enjolras asks.

“Of course,” Grantaire replies. “Anything, Enjolras.”

“Keep loving me,” Enjolras requests. “I want you to fall in love with someone else; of course I do, but never stop loving me, please.”

“I would never. I could never,” Grantaire promises.

“Another thing?” Enjolras asks.

“Sure,” Grantaire answers.

“Wherever I’m buried, plant your favourite flower,” Enjolras asks.

“My favourite flower?” Grantaire asks.

“Yes,” Enjolras replies. “Sunflowers, right?”

“Right,” Grantaire replies. “Okay, I can do that.” His voice is broken. “How long have you got?”

“Don’t know,” Enjolras replies. “I don’t think I want chemo.”

“ _Enjolras_ ,” Grantaire says, unable to articulate the horror at hearing that.

“It terrifies me,” Enjolras tells him.

“More than the thought of dying?” Grantaire asks. “Chemo could _save you_.”

“That’s not true actually. I’ve… I’ve been doing some research. The chemo can’t save me, and it probably won’t prolong my life, and all it will do is make me feel worse and trap me in a hospital,” Enjolras tells him, and his voice has become flat and emotionless. He laughs dryly. “ _And_ I’d lose all my hair and look like a fucking skeleton.”

“I’d still love you,” Grantaire tells him. “You’ll always be beautiful to me.”

“I don’t know how I’m going to cope with feeling ill and weak all the time.” Enjolras sighs and kisses Grantaire’s neck again, as if it’s an apology for being so miserable. Grantaire wants to tell him it’s within his rights to be depressed about this, but he can’t find the words.

“I’ll help you,” Grantaire promises. “I’ll drive you around and sit with you in bed when you can’t get up, and I’ll read the news to you and keep you up to date on everything. I promise.”

“What about when you’re busy? You can’t give up your life for me,” Enjolras says. “I don’t want you to give up your life for me.”

“I love you, Enjolras. I’m going to be there for you whether you like it or not,” Grantaire tells him firmly.

Enjolras breathes out shakily. “I love you so much,” he tells Grantaire, voice fierce through the tremors. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Grantaire doesn’t say anything – doesn’t know what he can say. All he can do is be there, holding Enjolras as he shakes apart until his last day.

Eventually they go back to the car, and they stretch out on the backseats together, kissing till they can’t think of anything but each other, putting off the moment when they have to take Enjolras home to his parents and face reality.

Grantaire kisses away Enjolras’ tears for the moment, and they sit together as the sun goes down, fire burning on the horizon.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading. hopefully my next fic will be less sad.
> 
> check out my blog: nerds-are-cool.tumblr.com  
> or my writing blog: theskyis-forever.tumblr.com
> 
> feel free to give me a prompt of something to write.  
> let me know what you thought of this it's different to my usual stuff i think. i probably won't write something like this again for a while at least.  
> Also, if you enjoyed this sad, sad fic: [buy me a coffee?](http://ko-fi.com/A831F9U)


End file.
